


Picture Perfect

by not1inamillion



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, High School AU, One Shot, Photography
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-06
Updated: 2016-01-06
Packaged: 2018-05-12 03:23:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5650765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/not1inamillion/pseuds/not1inamillion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Clarke needs a model for her photography project, and Lexa is in the right place at the right time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Picture Perfect

Clarke looks around the courtyard lazily, hoping something worthwhile would pop out to her, and she’d finally have some inspiration. There’s nothing particularly special, just the

usual benches with the usual students, lounging by the usual dying flowers. Nothing ‘final project’ worthy. Nothing that would satisfy Clarke’s own standards for her art.

Except if you ask her, photography isn’t really her kind of art. Creating something from nothing, she can do. But capturing something that already exists? It seems pointless to her. But photography is the one art class at this damn school that Clarke hasn’t taken and aced, and she couldn’t bring herself to take a different elective. So here she is, an artist that is apparently going to peak at seventeen.

Clarke’s eyes scan the courtyard a final time, as she resolves to leave if she can’t find anything worth her attention. For the first time, her eyes actually catch on something. That weird, kind of goth, very cute senior, Lexa. Clarke doesn’t know her last one. Everyone knows her as Lexa, and then nothing else about her. But Clarke has to admit, with that dark eyeliner and black jeans, she certainly wouldn’t mind an introduction.

Lexa looks kind of perfect, her back against the brick wall, her eyes closed, ear buds in. Her legs are sticking straight out, her combat boots tapping out a beat only she hears. And then Clarke has the best worst idea.

Clarke slowly takes out her camera, as if any movement would disturb Lexa. As if Lexa hasn’t been ignoring everyone else just fine this far, content to be in her own little world.

Clarke silently debates how close she dare gets. The zoom on her camera is really good, and she figures that she can get away with sneakily snapping pictures from across the 

courtyard.

It’s in the name of art, she keeps telling herself. It’s not stalking if it’s in the name of art.

She wonders if that would hold up in court.

Clarke zooms in enough that she can clearly see Lexa’s expression, but she can also see all the dead flowers surrounding her. She scoots down on her bench a little, so the she can get the shadows on Lexa’s face just right. And suddenly she understands why photography is art. The picture itself isn’t art, but the subject is. 

Clarke is so close to getting the perfect shot when suddenly, Lexa’s eyes snap open. 

Her green eyes instantly zero in on Clarke.

‘Hey, blondie with the camera,” She calls across the courtyard. Crap, crap, crap. Clarke did not anticipate getting caught. “Come over here for a minute,” Lexa sounds casual, but Clarke can’t help but feel like it’s an order.

Clarke shuffles across the courtyard sheepishly. Lexa rises so she can look Clarke in the eye. She leans against the brick wall, twirling her earbuds around her finger.

“Stalking is illegal in all fifty states, you know,” Lexa states once Clarke is within reasonable earshot.

Clarke doesn’t give Lexa the satisfaction of seeing her blush. Instead she does what any daughter of a politician would; deny. “You must be confused. I really don’t know what you’re talking about.” Clarke has always been a good liar. With the amount of trouble she tends to get into, she has to be.

Lexa’s eyes narrow slightly. “So what you’re telling me is, if I were to take that camera and looked through the pictures right now, I would not see any pictures of me?”

Clarke swallows. “Yup.”

Lexa raises her eyebrows, and plucks the camera out of Clarke’s hands without any hesitation.

“You can’t do that!” Clarke argues, “That’s private property. I have rights.”

Lexa scoffs as she scrolls through the pictures. “You’re a minor. You have no rights.”She hands the camera back to Clarke. “Although with such incriminating stalker pictures, you might be tried as an adult.”

“Okay, look. I’m just trying to pass my photography class. I liked the lighting on the wall, and you happened to be sitting by said wall. That’s all there is to it.”

Lexa purses her lips. Damn, is she cute. And a little bit terrifying. But Clarke has been told that she has that effect on people too. “Photography class, huh? I’ve seen your art hanging around the school. Clarke Griffin, right? You’re pretty good.”

Coming from Lexa, Clarke is assuming that that’s a big compliment. “Um, thanks?” 

This isn’t exactly how she expected this conversation to go. She guesses when it comes to Lexa, it’s better to go in without expectations though. She’ll surprise you every time.

“But next time you want to use me as your muse, you can just ask,” Lexa’s lips curl, daring Clarke to respond to that bit of flirtation. And who is Clarke to back down from a challenge?

“Well I’m sure I can find a project for you if you’re that desperate.”

“Says the girl who’s taking pictures of random people just to try to pass a class.”

“I do what it takes.”

Lexa lets out a little laugh, and wow, could Clarke get used to that sound. “Tell you what. Submit those pictures of me to that state competition all of those art dorks are going nuts about. Between my flawless features and your skills behind a camera, we’d probably win. Then, and only then, would I ever consider going out with you.”

Clarke nearly chokes. “Excuse me?”

“Like declaring your undying love for me wasn’t going to be the next thing out of your mouth? Normal people don’t take stalker photos, Clarke.”

“How blunt of you.”

“Is it so bad to know what I want?”

“No?”

“Great. I’ll pick you up at six then.”


End file.
